Count My Scars
by sick-atxxheart
Summary: Harry walked willingly to Voldemort and somehow survived. But the torture he was forced to endure before it was all over left him broken and scarred. Can he become whole again, even through his pain, with the help of Ginny and those who love him? Reposted
1. Chapter 1

**_Hi! So, this story was posted before, but then I took it down for some unknown reason. I am reposting it under a new title. Hopefully I'll get some reviews? Pretty please?_**

**_--_**

Scarred and broken, Harry thought to himself. Broken. He was broken, he thought as he lay on the floor in a pitch-black cave. His whole body was screaming in pain, his mind, his mind shrieked- let me go, let me die, quickly now, it hurts so bad . . . but the end would not come, and Harry knew this. Voldemort was gone, dead, and so Harry survived. Harry survived, but a more broken man you could not find. Harry shuddered to think about the things he had endured during that final battle.

Harry lay there, unable to move, for what stretched from minutes to hours to what seemed like days. The time passed, and all Harry tried to do was forget. His mind was like a black hole; memories and flashbacks and pain came to him, but purposefully he shut everything off, sucking all feeling into nothingness.

Finally, Harry began to feel normal gain. He could hear dripping in the cave, and wind blowing far away, instead of just the silence in his head. He began to remember pleasant things, his friends, his life, and times of happiness. Things other than the pain that threatened to rip him apart.

Harry wasn't even sure exactly what had happened. He remembered coming into the Dark Lord's presence, and the cold, cruel laugh that came from that awful white face with slits for eyes. He remembered fighting. He remembered being tortured- physically, but also mentally, his worst memories coming back to him and changing to be even more gruesome, threatening to rip him apart- deaths that were his fault, from his failures, and then the pain. He remembered dreadful things; his mind not only relieved scenes, but relived them as the victim; Harry felt their pain, shared their pain- was their pain- screaming, crying, pleading, make it stop. It was in those moments that Harry had known that Voldemort was better, stronger than him; how else could he change memories in someone else's mind, simply to torture the person? Scars covered Harry's body; he wasn't sure how they had gotten there, how they were received, or what had happened to him. He had gone numb long ago.

Harry remembered a moment in that action, in the torture, when he had felt strong, felt a will to fight back. He had felt hatred, hatred and anger through is pain- and wand less, no explanation- 'Avada Kedavra'- a flash of green light, and it was all over.

And so Harry lay.

Eventually, he began to get hungry. Harry waited, trying to give his body all the time he could to heal, trying to give his mind all the time he could to simply block everything out once again.

Finally, Harry got up. He screamed. It seemed like his whole body had been ripped open, searing pain, shooting arrows into him at every weakness; it reminded him of the time Voldemort had touched his scar in the graveyard, simply more pain.

Harry took a staggering step and clutched the hard stone wall. He needed food; he was becoming very hungry, making his pain even worse. As Harry took a few more steps, he realized he wouldn't be able to make it much farther. When he looked at his hands, arms, and legs, red lines covered them that were rapidly forming into scars that looked like they would last a lifetime. Under the red lines, purple bruises loomed, looking angrily back at him. War wounds. What amazed Harry once again was that he had no idea where they had come from. The torture, obviously, but what? Harry didn't remember feeling it, being there.

Harry spotted his wand laying about 20 feet from him, deeper in the cave where he remembered Lord Voldemort standing, laughing. Fighting through his fear and hurt, Harry stiffly ran as best he could over to it, even though unknowingly he was screaming.

Harry gingerly picked up his wand, surprised that it hadn't been broken in half. He felt the magic fill him, and he felt stronger- but the pain, still the pain took over him, not allowing him to even perform the simplest of spells.

Gasping, Harry walked a few more steps. Every few moments, he would stop and close his eyes, again trying to forget, again trying not to think in those seconds, moments, hours that passed in between his steps.

Eventually, Harry made it to where he could see the entrance to the cave. He remembered so vividly walking through that stone archway- prepared to die, expecting to die. Not expecting to survive, not expecting to be broken. But there Harry was.

Standing, Harry wavered. His last strength gone, Harry fell, his face on the cold, unforgiving stone floor.

--

When Harry woke again, it was just starting to dawn on the morning. The sun was just coming over the horizon. For a few, blissful moments, Harry was able to sit and just enjoy the sunrise. Then, as he stood up, pain shot through him, and memories came flooding back.

When it was over, Harry stood still and stared. A few painful steps later, Harry found himself standing on a ledge. Land stretched before him. Harry turned his head and gasped, not only from pain but also from the startling view. Nestled near the cave, deep in the rock, rose a black house- turrets and towers reached the sky, and a red stone path could be seen winding up the huge rock mountain. Harry had never seen the house before, but he recognized it despite all of this. This was one of the houses of the Malfoy family.

Harry began to walk across the precarious rocks, ignoring his pain. As he walked, he could feel all the scars on his body flaring up. But something drove him on, up the steps, slowly, painfully up the steps. Steps were even worse than just walking; but Harry wanted to be out of the cave, out of the evil clutches of memories.

Using a last burst of energy, Harry knocked on the huge door.

--

Ginny sat in silence. Two weeks had passed since the news that Voldemort was dead had reached the ears of wizards. Two whole weeks. So where was Harry?

"Ginny?" Hermione came into the room. She looked at Ginny cautiously. "Oh, dear," Hermione said quietly. "It's that feeling again, isn't it?"

Ginny nodded miserably, her red hair sticking to her face as tears rolled own her cheeks.

Hermione sighed. She had already decided that when Harry returned, he would be in big trouble with her. If he even returned. His decision to leave during the night and fight Voldemort alone had already caused so much hurt and so much fear. Hermione didn't know what had made her accept his decision that night, but she had. Now Harry's life might be destroyed, she thought, and if he doesn't come back Ginny's might be also.

"Hermione?" Ginny whispered. Hermione looked back at her, waiting. "If Harry does come back, will he be…. different? Will he still love me?"

Hermione fought back tears. Not only was she crying because Ginny was in pain, but Harry had been one of her best friends also. "I don't know," Hermione said sadly. "I'm sure he'll still love you. But Ginny…. Maybe you already have, I don't know, but- I think you maybe have to accept that he might not be coming back."

With that, both girls began sobbing uncontrollably, lost in their own grief. Eventually Ron came in, looking equally distraught himself but a little shocked to see Hermione and Ginny crying. He wrapped Hermione in his arms- a sudden feeling came over him, a want to protect her from all the hurt she was in. But he knew he could not. Ron felt utter remorse, both sadness and pain, as tears rolled down his face- he held one sobbing girl, and watched another as she cried- so many tears, and the one she needed most was gone.

--

_**Review? Pretty please?**_


	2. Chapter 2

The door opened. There stood Narcissa Malfoy, cold, condescending, and fearful. She looked at him, her mouth forming an 'o' of surprise, then one of realization. "The Dark Lord?" she asked quietly, hoping.

"Gone," Harry gasped. "Please-"  
As he fell, the pain overtaking him, he saw Draco join Narcissa at the door. Then all went black, and once again all Harry knew was pain, horrible memories, and the inky darkness that seemed to fill every last bit of him.

--

Harry felt no bruises, only scars.

He opened his eyes. He was in a dark room, but one that contained the soft bed he was lying on. Where am I? Harry wondered.

Everything came flashing back, but nothing really hurt anymore. Except for the thoughts that seemed to be trying to invade his head, and the scars- turning into scabs now- that covered his body, Harry felt normal.

His wand lay on the table next to the bed. Harry wondered who had put it there. He certainly hadn't.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy came into Harry's dark room. Harry quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, but Harry knew that Draco had seen him.

"Harry?" Draco whispered.

Harry was surprised to hear Draco use his first name; he never had before. Harry opened his eyes slowly, but didn't speak; he didn't trust his voice.

"What happened to you?" Draco spoke softly, as if someone would or could hear. "Mum said… he's… gone, and that you did it but now were extremely wounded. I was almost… scared when I saw all your cuts and scars. I hear… I hear you screaming sometimes."

Harry blanched. He had been screaming? "Yeah, he's gone," Harry responded, his voice raspy and raw. He saw Draco flinch at the quality of his voice. "And torture, that's where the scars are from. I scream because of the things I was forced to think, things I was forced to remember, things I was forced to relive over and over."

Draco just stared at him for a moment. "That's- that's what all of this is from?!"

Harry nodded, and a hollow laugh escaped him. "Thought Voldemort wouldn't go this far? Thought your master was all good? You thought wrong."

Draco leaned back, shaking his head. "No! No, that's not what I thought at all. Maybe at first, but not anymore. Near the end, I was so afraid of being killed mercilessly because I wouldn't be able to do what the Dark Lord wanted me to do. I grew to hate him, but he controlled me with the decision of whether I lived or died. All this has torn my family apart. You saw my mother. Cold, unfeeling. Afraid. I've actually always been rather jealous of you, Harry."

"What?" Harry said loudly. "Of me? Why?"

Draco looked quite uncomfortable. Harry guessed that he didn't often share his feelings, if at all. "You had all the friends and support that I had always wanted. You got to make your own decisions, without your parents choosing everything for you. I'm not saying your life was perfect- probably far from it- but it seems better than mine ever was."

For the next hour and a half, Harry and Draco talked like they never had before. What surprised them both is how much they truly were alike. Both felt extremely influenced by those around them. Draco said he had often felt very lonely, and Harry agreed. They had both been close to death a few times; Draco explained sadly that his father, Lucius Malfoy, had quite a temper when he was angry or disappointed. They amazed themselves by realizing they had never truly hated one another, just hated the other's actions and misunderstood each other. By the end of the hour and a half, Harry could see the beginnings of a friendship.

A few minutes later, as Harry and Draco were still talking, the door opened again, and both Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy entered. The room was silent; Harry had never been on good terms with Draco, but he had even worse ones with Draco's parents.

"You woke up," Lucius said coldly. Harry nodded, unsure of what to say; he couldn't tell if Lucius was being rude or just stating the obvious. "How are you feeling?"

Harry started to sit up, cried out, and as he slumped back down said, "Quite horrible, thank you."

"I did the best I could with the bruises," Narcissa said, trying to break the awkward moment. "But the cuts… you're going to have nasty scars, there's not much I can do for them."

Harry nodded again; he had already accepted that fact.

Two more chairs were conjured out of thin air with a wave of Lucius' wand. "Please," Lucius said, a little more kindly, as he and Narcissa sat down. "Tell us what happened."

Again Harry recounted his story, sparing no details of his torture or the things Voldemort had said to him. He saw Lucius or Narcissa, or both, flinch at certain gruesome moments, and it made Harry glad to see that the two of them had at least part of a heart. Harry told how the Death Eaters who had been there also had stared at him, then at the body of their master, crumpled, lifeless, on the floor. Just moments before, they had been laughing, Harry recalled, but suddenly they had all fled, as if they were afraid. Harry told of how he had lain, screaming, and of how he had gotten to the big house on the rocks. When Harry had finished, there was a silence; it wasn't awkward or cold, but filled with each person's separate thoughts.

"Well," Lucius broke the moment, "our whole family thanks you. I have no idea how- strong- you had to be to endure this. Judging by the looks of you, it wasn't easy and the aftermath will probably hurt you for a long time. But I just want you to know that you have saved a lot of people form certain death; our family, for example. Once again, we thank you." With these words, all three Malfoys rose and began to leave. As they did, Narcissa gave Harry a small smile and said, "You're welcome to stay as long as you need to, to heal." And then, they were gone.

--

_The blackness gave way to a younger Harry, tied to a gravestone. The blood was drawn by the knife of another small man. The blood, added to a cauldron, emerged to form the shape of what looked like a man, but with features like none other- catlike eyes and a white face. The creature reached towards Harry, placed one bony finger against the scar on Harry's forehead- Harry screamed, yelling- the pain-_

_"Give the boy to me." "No, please! Not Harry! Please, not Harry!" "Stand aside, you stupid girl!"_

_"No," Harry wanted to scream, "He'll kill you- no-"_

_The spells flew around him. Harry saw Ginny, Ron, Neville, Hermione, Luna, and then Sirius. Dueling, Sirius looked strong- unbreakable. But as the curse hit him in the chest, and he fell- the curtain covered him, gone. He can't be gone, Harry thought, his anger coming out in a scream-_

--

"Harry!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed, looking scared. "Harry… wake up, Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes. Draco stood above him. "You were screaming again…"

Harry shuddered, as an aftermath of the dream; he knew Draco saw him shaking. "Sorry," Harry said quietly. "I can't help it… what I remember does it to me."

"What do you remember?" Draco asked. Harry was again amazed that Draco even cared.

"My parents dying… Sirius dying… pain, mostly…" As he answered, Harry slipped unwillingly into darkness once again, trying to fight sleep but unable to. As darkness overtook him, he heard a cry, "Harry!", and one last thought escaped him….

_Ginny…_

--

**_Please review!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Count My Scars  
****Chapter Three**

Ginny had stopped caring. She had stopped caring about everything.

Everyone was getting worried. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Fred, George, Ron, Bill, and Fleur- everyone tried their own tactics to cheer her up, but nothing worked. Ginny remained locked inside herself.

Every person mourned in his or her own way. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed flustered; they felt as if they had lost one of their own children. Hermione cried to herself often. She and Ron had finally gotten together, but even with a new relationship Harry's friendship was sorely missed. Ron's humor was gone, with no one to share it with. Fred and George were quiet; even they didn't crack jokes. Bill and Fleur hadn't known Harry very well, but they had good memories and were quite sad.

Ginny took Harry's almost definite death the worst. She barely ate and she barely slept. Everyone expected her to cry, but she didn't. Ginny just sat, stony-faced and silent; but still everyone knew how broken she was.

Ginny just couldn't believe that Harry would leave her like that. Although at one time Harry had decided that they couldn't see each other, for safety, before Harry had left they had agreed to try it out again.

And now, he was gone.

When Harry had left in the middle of the night, Ron and Hermione had tried to break it to her gently:

"_Ginny?" "Ginny, sit down. We need to talk to you."_

_Ginny had sat down, looking nervous. She hadn't seen Harry that day or the day before. "What is it?"_

_Hermione hesitated. "We saw Harry last night, around midnight."_

"_He left, Ginny," Ron said kindly, almost sadly._

"_To- to-" Ginny spluttered. _

"_To go and fight Voldemort," Hermione finished, nodding. _

"_He'll die," Ginny protested, the tears starting to fall._

_Hermione sighed, shaking her head. Her face was red and puffy; Ginny could tell she had probably been up all night crying._

"_He told us to tell you he loves you, and if all goes well he'll be back before you know it." _

"But he's not, is he?" Ginny muttered to herself. "It didn't work out well. He's gone. But I will never love someone else."

--

The days passed quickly for Harry. Still, pain almost drove him crazy, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to walk again. But still, he was alive, and that was what mattered.

The Malfoys' were still being surprisingly nice, Harry noted. Meals were brought in three times a day, and Draco often came to visit, although Harry didn't see Lucius or Narcissa again.

One day, Harry and Draco were talking (they had become quite friendly with one another) when suddenly Harry said, "I think it's time for me to leave."

Draco looked shocked. "But- but you can't even walk!"

Harry sighed, looking sad. "I know, but that can't be helped. I don't know if I'll ever be able to walk again."

"Are you strong enough to go?"

Harry hesitated. "I don't think I am, actually, but it's something I have to do."

Draco seemed to accept this. "Right. When will you go?"

"Tomorrow morning," Harry decided. "Tomorrow morning it is."

Preparations were made for Harry's departure. Harry wasn't sure if he would be able to Apparate by himself; it was determined that Draco would assist him. _Just as Dumbledore did,_ Harry thought, _that night at the cave._

Harry thanked Lucius and Narcissa for their hospitality. Their faces were still emotionless, perhaps from habit, but they seemed less afraid, more real than pretend.

Harry worried that night if he would be strong enough, and what everyone's reaction to his return might be. Harry knew he looked different; Draco had shown him a mirror once, and he had barely recognized himself.

Harry had dreams about Ginny. He missed her. He had finally told her they could date again, right before he left. Harry really hadn't meant to hurt Ginny by ripping everything out from under her by leaving, but he had a feeling that he had hurt her. Harry wondered if she would still love him; he wondered if he could love someone still, even with all the pain and fear that was inside of him.

Harry also thought about how his friendship with Ron and Hermione would be different. They had accepted his decision to leave alone at the time when they needed to, but would they be angry with him now? Probably, Harry decided, especially because of how hurt and scarred and broken I am.

The cuts and gashes on Harry's body were now truly forming into scars now; Harry knew they would never, ever go away. The thinnest scars were a shocking black; Harry didn't know why that was, but thin as they were they still stood out the most. Some were red; they faded pretty well into Harry's skin, but were still noticeable. The thickest scars were white; they wrapped like bands around various places on Harry's arms, legs, and a big one around his chest. Harry often wondered if it was magical fire, magical burns, that gave him the white scars.

Memories still invaded him. The intensity didn't slow down, but every few nights Harry woke up with one less dream to remember. Still, his screaming in the night didn't stop; Harry knew that would be something that would really scare all the people he was going back to.

Finally, Harry went to sleep, dreading the nightmares he knew would come but looking forward to seeing his 'family'.

--

_**Thanks for all the reviews I have already. Please treat me to some more?**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Count My Scars  
****Chapter Four**

Harry took a shuddering deep breath, and leaned once more against Draco. They had been standing for the past two minutes on the exact same spot on the entranceway to Malfoy Manor; the same spot, in fact, that Harry had shown up in a month previous. Since then, he had of course strengthened; but he was still considerably weak, and grateful to his new friend for assisting him.

Harry was dressed in a dark green long-sleeved shirt and loose-fitting jeans; they were Draco's clothes. He didn't have any others, and he hadn't been strong enough to summon them. He had a light Glamour placed on his face and hands; although he was ashamed that he had to hide from the people he was returning to, he also didn't want anyone fainting or not recognizing him or rejecting him when they saw. It was just easier this way- this way, he could drop his mask when he wanted to.

Draco had just been about to Side-Along Apparate with Harry, when the boy stopped him, trying desperately to catch his breath. Although Draco had offered to levitate Harry down the steps, he had refused and insisted on doing it by himself, painful step by painful step. His hero complex was in full swing once again, even though his enemy was now dead.

Draco had finally relented and allowed Harry to walk down by himself, instead electing to stand next to him every step of the way, gripping his arm and supporting him so he wouldn't fall. Harry was weaker than he thought he was, and Draco worried about him.

Draco was pulled out of his thoughts by Harry speaking to him. "I'm ready, Draco."

Draco nodded swiftly, tightened his grip on Harry's feeble arm, and turned on the spot. They disappeared into the sky.

--

Things had of course not been normal, ever since Harry's disappearance. Things had been... strange in the Burrow; everyone was slightly depressed, and even though Voldemort had now been discovered dead, a lot of blood had been found in the chamber. Voldemort had died practically unmarked, and the Death Eaters that had so far been caught were mostly unmarked too.

That left only one option; that it was _Harry's_ blood covering the walls of the cave. That option was practically unthinkable to those who knew him well. They had, of course, looked high and low for the child; Ginny had stayed at home, lost in her own grief. Mrs. Weasley Her parents had been disappointed in her, as she was allowing her grief to control her rather than do something productive about it; but she refused to budge, and they eventually left it be. _Everyone grieves in their own way_, they said. _This is hers. Let it be._

Giving up hope had been something they all refused to do. It looked bleak, however; it had been a month since Voldemort's body had been found, and yet still there was no word from Harry or from anyone bringing news. Just nothing, and that in itself was extremely disheartening to his "family". Giving up hope was _not_ an option to them, but it seemed to be the only possible alternative left.

The days were still quite tense in the house. Ron and Hermione clung to one another constantly, and were barely ever apart; Ginny stayed in her room; and everyone else just tried to make the most of things, even though nothing seemed right. Nothing _was_ right.

That was why, when a sharp rap came on the door, everyone was surprised.

The wards around the Burrow were still at Ministry-level strength, the highest precaution that could be given. Anyone without specific access could not enter. There were only a few people who had such access, and those who did weren't expected for many days.

Mr. Weasley carefully rose from his chair, wand at the ready. He approached the door slowly; even though Voldemort was dead, and he doubted any intruder would _knock_, it was always better to be safe than sorry. None of them had quite gotten over the cautious attitudes they had adopted during the war.

Mr. Weasley briefly set up a simple shield in front of the door, before reaching across and quickly opening it. He took a step back in shock at what he saw.

Harry Potter was standing, but barely, on his doorstep. Supporting him with a look of apology on his face was none other than Draco Malfoy. The gasps and small shrieks from the room could be heard even from outside.

"Please- sir-" Draco gasped out. Harry may have been small, but he was not an easy load to carry.

Appraising Draco quickly and noticing that the boy did not have his wand out, Mr. Weasley quickly stepped aside and released his shield. Draco muttered to Harry briefly, and the boy moaned again and took a small step. Draco kept this process up, with the help of Mr. Weasley, until Harry was settled in a chair. The boy promptly fainted from exhaustion, and everyone else in the room, including Ron and Hermione, watched with both fear and excitement. They were undoubtedly confused; why was Draco Malfoy, Harry's rival, helping him?

Draco sighed loudly, and lifted Harry's head up. Everyone tensed when he pulled his wand out, but they let the breath out again when he simply muttered a spell to keep Harry's head up.

Draco finally looked up at everyone who was watching him- the twins, Hermione, Ron, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Bill, Fleur, and Remus and Tonks, who had stopped over for breakfast. The only one Draco noticed wasn't at the table was It didn't take him long to recognize the tension in the room, and he tried to break it by saying cheerfully, "May I please sit down?"

Mrs. Weasley scrambled to get him a chair, and when he finally was able to sit Draco sighed deeply. "He's a right handful, I swear," he said quietly. "Never sleeps anymore-"

He should have expected it coming, and Draco grinned when Hermione finally asked the question everyone had been wanting to ask.

"Please- stop this- tell us what's going on!"

Draco nodded slowly. "Well, as you can see, Harry's not dead," he said with a feeble attempt at humor. No one appreciated it, so Draco just continued. "He may as well be, though. He showed up on our doorstep, bleeding and _this close_ to death- I'm sure you don't know, but Malfoy Manor is close to the cave where… _he_.. was found dead-"

Draco was carefully skipping over anything that had to do with his parents being Death Eaters, trying to save himself the embarrassment and return to Harry. Everyone let him. Hermione had tears running down her face, and Mrs. Weasley was clutching her husband's arm as if it was a lifeline. Tonks also looked close to tears, and Remus had his arm around her.

"Anyway, we took him in. What else could we do? He had saved us. Anyway, he eventually started to get stronger. Harry's a fighter, he is."

Everyone in the room was nodding along with this statement, and a few brief sobs were heard.

There was a silence, and then Bill couldn't help but ask, "Wh-what happened… in the cave?"

Draco sighed once more, and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, but that's not my story to tell."

Everyone seemed to accept that, and then another question was asked. "Is- is H-Harry o-okay?" The small, timid inquiry came from Hermione, who was distraught by this point.

Draco took his time responding to her, as he wasn't quite sure how to reply. When he did, his words were soft and sincere.

"I'm sure you can imagine he's not the same," he said, and he took the nods he saw around the room as a general assent. "He… he is stronger than anyone could have guessed," Draco continued. "He needs to be cared for, but he is not an invalid. His mind is not broken."

The sharp gasps of relief around the room were heard, but Draco ignored them, his face down. When he looked up, his eyes were pained.

"Please don't tell him I've told you this," Draco spoke softly, his voice a gentle plea. "He's wearing glamours- don't ask him to take them off until he's ready."

Draco then went on to quickly explain what Harry had been eating and what he had been doing to take care of him, especially during nightmares. He could practically see Hermione's quick brain taking it all down.

There was a slight silence after Draco had finished, which was only filled with Remus Lupin murmuring a quiet "thank you," to which Draco nodded slightly.

After a few moments, Draco rose. "I will now take my leave," he said quietly, looking around the room. "Take care of him. He knows where to contact me- should you need anything, feel free to ask me."

Draco was walking out the door and was just about to disappear, when he turned around with a sober look on his face. His next words shocked the room practically to tears, as they were not only honest and sincere, but also full of pain and suffering.

"I'm sorry for my father's actions. Thank you for seeing that I am not him."

With that, Draco was gone.

--

The room was just as silent as it had been when Draco left. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were both crying, and Fleur and Tonks both looked close to tears; breakfast food sat forgotten, as everyone couldn't help but stare at the broken boy who sat in their kitchen.

He _looked_ normal, despite everything. His body was wrapped in heavy clothing, and his hands and face were smooth. If they hadn't seen him stagger while walking, and then pass out, Harry could have passed for simply sleeping, and being perfectly fine. But the fact that he was wearing _glamours_ scared everyone. What was he hiding?

No one spoke for what seemed to be ages. Fred eventually broke the silence by reaching out and buttering a piece of toast, and then proceeding to eat it. This small action confirmed to everyone that staring was not going to wake Harry up for the time being, and it was obvious the boy needed the rest.

Everyone began eating again, but it was painfully obvious that they all still had one eye on Harry.

The room was just beginning to feel lively, _real_, again when Hermione's scream cut through all the chatter. Everyone looked at her, and her hand was shaking and pointing towards Harry.

The glamours were falling.

--

**It has been a painfully ridiculous time since I've updated this story, and I apologize. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it? Please review.**


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